Shame
by ncfan
Summary: Fëanor contends with inappropriate feelings for his stepmother. AU.


For the record, I don't consider this canon, and by that, I mean I don't consider this part of my head-canon continuity. Fëanor's screwed-up enough without having to deal with this too. And I'm sure that "Fëanor is secretly attracted to his stepmother, thus fueling his hostility towards her" fics exist, but I've never seen one, so I thought it needed to be written. So here it is, folks! The most messed-up Christmas present I could have given you.

I own nothing.

* * *

With a swish of her skirt, golden light shining on her hair, the sound of her laugh, and the brushing of skin against skin in narrow hallways, she's in his thoughts, and nothing he does can remove her from them. The smell of her skin, her hair, the perfume she uses and the incense she burns, it lingers with him long after she's vanished. The image of her dances in his head when he sleeps.

Every day that he lives, Fëanáro wishes that his father had never looked upon nor heard the name of Indis the Fair. He wishes that Finwë had never met she whom he would marry after the death of Míriel Þerindë. Of all the nissi who could have usurped his mother, he wishes that it had not been Indis.

Of course, Fëanáro did not notice it at first. When first Indis came into his life, when first she bore his father children to usurp his place as Finwë's heir, he felt nothing towards her but enmity. His mother's usurper deserved nothing else. Someone who believed that she could ever replace Míriel, either of the Queen of the Noldor, as Finwë's wife or as Fëanáro's mother deserved nothing but scorn.

As time wears on, however, he begins to notice things.

The smooth skin of Indis's bare arms, lightly coated with thin, fine hair, seems to glow silver under Telperion's silvery light. Her hair is bleached to white, and in her pale dress she seems more akin to a marble statute than a Quendë when standing still. Fëanáro catches himself finding her beautiful when she stands in the garden under the stars, and turns away from her and practically runs back inside, struggling to banish the thought of her from his mind.

He sees her thin skirt twisting around her legs when she plays with her young children. Indis was a runner in the past, and her calves are still well-muscled, more than most nissi. Her dress twists around her claves, her thighs and her hips, her breasts, round and full from childbirth. Fëanáro finds his eyes unwillingly drawn to her, and the more he looks at her, the more he notices the curves of her body, the more he notices _her, _that she is as every bit as desirable as she is objectionable.

That he desires her.

He dreams of her. Dreams of Indis, naked and inviting, her long, sinuous body entwined with his. Her little moans and laughs and cries of ecstasy and his matching hers fill up his ears. He wakes covered in sweat, frustrated, bile rising in his throat and breath barely passing through is mouth.

This is wrong.

This is wrong.

This is wrong. Indis is married to his father, and she thought she could be a replacement for his mother. She is Finwë's wife, mother of his children. She is married, she is the attempted usurper of his mother, and he should not feel this way.

He does, though, and Fëanáro supposes himself a disloyal son, looks in the mirror and knows himself to be a disloyal son. Every moment he feels so much of an ounce of desire for Indis, he forgets Míriel, lets Indis supplant her in his heart. Indis has usurped Míriel in truth, if she can exert such a pull over him. And Indis is Finwë's wife. Fëanáro betrays his father in this, seeks to usurp and supplant his father. Even if he never acts on his desires, he betrays both his parents.

Fëanáro distances himself from Indis, more than he already has. He goes far afield in Aman, seeking out new people, new friends. He rarely returns to Tirion, and when he does, he avoids Indis's presence at all costs. He marries, and has children, devotes himself to them and to his work, putting all his strength into banishing all else from his mind.

And yet, despite all his efforts, he can not forget, and he can not silence his desire, and he can not speak of it for shame.

* * *

Fëanáro—Fëanor

Nissi—women (singular: nís)  
Quendë—Elf (plural: Quendi) (Quenya)


End file.
